Beautiful
by Zackara
Summary: Ok, its rated M to be safe, it really isn't graphic. This is a one-shot in Roxas' POV. Its hard to describe, but here it goes: Roxas doesn't like being called Beautiful, but Axel just keeps pushing, but if you push to far, sometimes people break. Akuroku.


**Author Note: **Hey, sorry I know I should really like, update Forever and stuff, but I did promise a one shot to BrokenOperaGlasses, shes amazing, look her up. Anyway, love ya sweetie. Here is your one shot. I did try to write what you requested, but I couldn't. I started typing, and this is what came out. So here it is. I like it. So I hope you do too.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or Roxas, or Axel, or anyone, thats called slavery and its wrong.

**Warnings:** Sad face, there is mentioned past abuse, but nothing specific or graphic. Promise.

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People have always told me I'm beautiful. I used to like it, it made me feel important. I hate it now. Even now, as I stare into your green eyes, knowing you'll never hurt me, I'm still afraid. Because you are going to tell me I'm beautiful. I'm sure of it. I see it in the set of your lips, the love in your eyes, and your gentle hand cradling my face. I wish you wouldn't. Too many people have told me I'm beautiful. I don't think I believe them, I don't feel beautiful, not anymore. I wish people would stop. Stop thinking I'm pretty, stop noticing me, stop, just stop.

I'm caught here, looking into your eyes, its only been seconds, but it feels like an eternity. You open your mouth to speak. "Roxas . . ."

I'm trembling, I know what's coming next, I can feel all the other times, all the other people's hands where yours are, where they put their hands. I can feel the tears running down my face, even though my cheeks are dry. I shudder slightly, but can't break eye contact. I'm so scared. "P-please." I whisper, and that alone takes so much strength I think I might collapse right there.

You don't stop, you keep going, as if you don't hear, but for just a second, something fluttered through your eyes. Sadness? "You . . . are . . . beautiful." You are talking at a normal pace, but every syllable pulls at me, taking forever. I flinch away from your hand, way from you and the moment is gone.

I pull away from you, refusing to look into your eyes. You drop your hand, I glance up at you, but glance back quickly but not before I see a flash of sadness in your eyes. I don't want to look at you, I want to be somewhere else. You. It's you. What's wrong with me? You aren't them. I know that, don't I? But I can't look at you. Not now. Why did you have to say that? Why does everyone have to say that. I move away from you, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder as I walk quickly to the door. I pause there for a moment, looking back at you. You haven't moved, you look so sad, so confused. "I'm sorry." I whisper, escaping through the door.

I leave your apartment and calm down considerably as the cold air hits my face. I wasn't crying, but I felt like I was going to. I walked quickly over to the bench, sitting down hard on one of the benches. I rested my head in my hands. It was cold, I had forgotten my jacket at your apartment, but I don't care. I can deal with the cold. I'm breathing hard.

I hate it. I hate it! I was rocking back and forth slightly, trying to fight out the memories. I knew it was useless though, and with a sigh, surrendered to them. I would have to eventually anyway. That is if I wanted to sleep in the next ever. I had already lost myself to them, what was the point of not remembering? Why fight the memories? I was too weak to anyway. That's what I am, weak. Useless. Pathetic. Beautiful.

I shudder, but this time it's not from the cold. 'You're just so god damn pretty, aren't you?' The ghost of a voice drifted through my mind, chilling me far much more then the freezing wind had managed to. _**If you weren't pretty this wouldn't have happened.**_ The voice in my head whispered to me. I shuddered. I knew it was right. If I had been ugly, or just plain, maybe they would have left me be. But no, I had to be 'beautiful'. I felt sick to my stomach. The word always had that effect on me.

I traced my fingers down my arm, I'm sure it looked like I was just cold, but in truth I was searching for something. My fingers brushed against the rough spot on my arm, just below the crease of my elbow. It wasn't really a scar, more like a brand. I had been what? Six? Seven? Twelve? I could never remember how old I was when things happened to me. Hell, I don't even know how old I am now.

It was late, maybe three in the morning? I don't really remember. I just know that He was asleep. I found His lighter, in His left pant pocket. I took one of the safety pins that held my clothes together out, holding it in the flame, getting it as hot as I could, before flipping the flame off. It was completely dark, I remember that. The only light came from the safety pin, it was glowing hot. I could feel the heat burning the tips of my fingers on my other hand.

I had made a promise to myself, after this last time, that I didn't want to be beautiful anymore. I dug the burning hot metal into my skin, trying to fight back the screams as I pulled it out and pushed it into another part of my arm. It wasn't as hot this time, but it still hurt like hell. I was on the third or fourth reheat of the pin when He found me. He threw the door open, grabbing my arm and throwing me clear across the room. "What the hell?" He demanded, anger in every line of his body. I quivered against the floor, not having moved at all. My arm was numb, or maybe I just didn't care anymore.

My fingers brushed against the small raised spot again, and I glanced at it, looking at the pearly white scare that had never really fully healed up. I had done that one first, the pin had been the hottest and I had pushed it deeper. I had done more damage than I had needed to. It wasn't about the pain. I just wanted people to stop telling me what perfect flawless skin I had.

I felt the bench shift slightly as someone sat down beside me, not close, just looking for a seat. I flinched. I pulled my arms closer around me, and got up. I didn't want to think about it anymore. I needed to call and apologize to you. I knew you hadn't done it to hurt me. Not on purpose anyway. You knew I hated it though. You know I hate it when you tell me I'm beautiful, how I flinch and look away, even when I stay, its not the same. The second you open your mouth to say it, you see or feel me tense up. But you say it anyway. Every time. I don't know why. Maybe you just want to see if you can make me stop hating it.

I love you. You know that. You know I love you. I trust you, completely. But its not enough. It will never be enough. I don't understand why you can't just let it go. Can't you see how it hurts me when you tell me that? Do you not care? You look at me like I'm some new puzzle for you to dissect and figure out, and then you tell me I'm beautiful. It doesn't matter what we were talking about before, how I feel so safe with you by me, the second you say it, I tense. I move away, I flinch, and you keep doing it. Why can't you just let it be?

My breath hitches as I fight down a sob. It's so hard with you sometimes. I turn the corner of my street, and there you are, sitting on my porch step. You see me, and get to your feet. I've stopped walking now, looking at you wearily. I smile tiredly, I'm not upset you're hear. I knew you would sense I was more upset then usual when you say it.

I start walking again. "Hi Axel." I say, not looking at you, I don't want to have to do this right now, apologize, knowing your waiting for some form of explanation, knowing I'll never give you one.

You nod at me, and I unlock my door. You follow me inside. I knew you would. I walk to the kitchen, turning on as few lights as possible. I open the fridge, it's not on, I don't have it plugged in. I grab a glass of cold coffee and half of the sandwich I made yesterday. I lean against the counter and look at you. I chew the bite I just took, and then swallow.

"I'm sorry Axel." I say, monotone. You just look at me. Stare at me. You have that look again, the one that says you're trying to figure something out.

"Why do you hate it so much when I tell you you're beautiful?" You ask, not breaking eye contact. Your question surprises me. You aren't one to ask. You'd rather figure it out yourself or have me tell you, or force me to tell you, never ask. I look away from you. I can't look at you. I consider answering for a second, shivering at the thought.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Lie. I can see the hurt in your eyes. You think I'm rejecting you, don't you? That I won't just take the compliment. But I can't. Why can't you see that? I look away before I start to cry. Why can't you just see that this hurts me? Why do you keep pushing Axel? Why won't you just let me go?

I grip the counter for support, I'm not facing you anymore. I'm trying so desperately not to cry. I don't want to cry. It would just prove that I'm weak. I already know I am. And suddenly, your there, right behind me, wrapping your arms around me. I shudder. You don't stop, you just pull me closer, but that's okay. I can do this, I can-No, I can't. Stop, please. Please stop. I whimper and you let me go startled. I don't think you every realized I was afraid of you until just now.

I pull back, wrapping my arms around myself. I'm so lost, so alone. You are supposed to be my safe harbor. My shelter, and you are. Why do you have to ruin it Axel? Why do you have to tell me I'm beautiful? Why can't you just tell me you love me? I can handle that one. No one has ever told me that one. Why do you have to use the same words as them? Why do you have to make me see a different face, different green eyes when I look at you? Why do you make me see Him?

I was safe you know, I was out. I had this place, sure, I just recently got electricity, and it's a horrible neighborhood, but I was safe. I still have all those dead bolts. I locked everyone before I met you. And I still didn't sleep. I can't. And when I do, I don't like what I dream. Then I met you, and I started only locking most of them. Why do you have to ruin it? Aren't the dreams enough? Do you have to haunt me too?

I shudder again, dropping my food into the trash, and putting my coffee cup in the sink. I didn't feel like eating anymore. You follow me, even as I go up the stairs, even as I open my door. I think about closing it, but there will be nightmares no matter what, and I might as well have you here, it would let me feel safe until I fell asleep at least. "You're tired." It isn't a question from you, just a clarification. I nod slowly. "May I stay?" You ask. It is a question, and I relax into the knowing that if I said no, you would really leave, before nodding again silently.

You nod, and sit in your chair. I'd never tell you this, but I'd never sat in the chair you always took when you spent time in my room. It was yours. You sat there now, rocking in it slowly. I curled up into a ball on my bed, not looking at you. The quiet creaking of your chair comforted and calmed me as I began drifting off. "Can I ask you something?" You ask quietly, not sure if I'm asleep or not. I don't respond, I am almost asleep.

You don't wait for an answer, but ask your question anyway. "Why do you always sleep in a tight little ball like that?"

I hadn't really thought about it before, and I did so now. I wasn't going to answer me, but I think you knew I was awake because of the way my back was tensed. You looked away and sighed, excepting that you weren't getting an answer. I relaxed with you, nearly instantly falling asleep.

I always have the exact same dream. But this one was slightly different. Normally, it's just some anonymous room, and I wake up there, to realize I never left, and I was still there, trapped with Him. But this was different. I was still there, in a similar room, probably a hotel or something. What was different was that you were there. You reached down, pulling me to you, whispering that it will all be okay, and I believe you, relaxing into your embrace. "You are beautiful." I scream.

I woke up to you holding me and gently shaking me, and I scream again. I try desperately to get away from you, crying out desperately. It had been a mistake to let you stay. I should have made you leave so I could lock the deadbolt on my door. I had boarded up all the windows already, the first day I had come here. My eyes flashed to the door, seeing the deadbolt had been locked. It was like my nightmare all over again. I struggled, but knew it was useless, you were much stronger than me. I was weak. Weak and beautiful. I sobbed, curling up into the tightest ball I could in your embrace, trying to hide myself from you. I folded in on myself, trying to disappear, but knowing I would never escape into the nothingness I so longed for.

"Sh. Sh, it's ok." You whisper, but I just cry harder. You had said those words before, a million times in a million different nightmares. I can see you in my mind, but it isn't really you. Your face is leaner, harder, and your eyes, your eyes are much darker. I'm trembling. I can't help it. I can't keep from trembling. I'm just a quivering pile of tears and sobs and fear. I'm so terrified of you.

It's so dark here. So dark. I feel you locking me away, even though you haven't moved. You just keep stroking my back, whispering to me. I wish you'd get on with it. I need you to step on the only hope I have left so I can go back to the way it's supposed to be. I should have seen this coming. I should have run the second you told me I was beautiful. I should have seen it then and left completely. But I liked it here. I liked how you made me feel. Safe. The irony made me laugh, and I was laughing hysterically through my tears in seconds.

I could feel that this scared you. You weren't used to seeing the broken side to me. _**Yes, I'm broken. Not pretty now, am I?**_ I ask you in the mind that's crumbling around me. _**Please, just let me be.**_ Another part of me begs you. Why won't anyone ever just let me alone?

'**You're just so beautiful'** I shudder and cry harder, if that's even possible. I retreat farther into my mind, trying to escape the pain, the memories, everything.

There was sunlight everywhere. This was the most beautiful place I could imagine, it was so peaceful. I looked around, wondering how I could ever have thought up such a beautiful place. I turn and there I am. Not me, not a me I remember. Young and small. Tiny really. I turn and see me smiling. I don't ever remember being that happy. My face seemed to glow with happiness and purity. I could feel tears running down my face. I wish I could protect that little boy from everything that I knew was going to tear him apart so very soon. He-I must have been about five in this place. It was so white everywhere, but with a hint of the softest yellow I had ever seen.

The me that was not me ran through the garden, laughing and smiling, running his hands over the flowers, almost skipping through the rows and rows of plants. He stopped at one particular bush and stopped, awestruck by the many butterflies fluttering around it. It was by far the prettiest of the plants, the best one. Young me watched, mouth open wide as one beautiful butterfly flew down and landed on his nose. It slowly flapped it's amazing blue purple wings twice, then flew off. He watched it go, mouth still slightly agape. I smiled softly. It was adorable. "Roxas." The most beautiful voice I had ever heard called my name, and I turned as the boy beside me did.

I knew the younger me couldn't see me, and I reasoned that this woman couldn't either, but the way she looked at me in that moment, eyes so full of love, I felt as if she could. The small boy behind me rushed towards her, passing right through me as he went. "Mama!!" He cried, rushing into her open arms and hugging her tightly. The woman smiled, wrapping her arms around him-me.

"Hello Roxas, have you been playing in my garden again?" She asked, a twinkle in her eyes, and it just seemed right that this place should be hers. She was so beautiful, so gentle and soft and loving. It made sense that this place was hers. It just felt of her.

"Yes Mama." Young me said excitedly as he launched into a detailed explanation of all that had happened in the time since she had left to get something. She smiled softly, listening, but not really listening. She looked out at the garden, still the picture of the loving mother. She smiled at her son and picked him up. "Come on Roxas, let's go inside." She said, standing and taking his hand. She looked down at him for a second, and he looked up at her. "You are so beautiful Roxas." She whispered, so much love shining out of her eyes that it almost hurt to look at, but at the same time I felt so loved in that moment, that it didn't matter.

The two went into the house, and the garden faded away. I was back in my bed, crying. I wasn't scared anymore I wasn't crying out of fear, or pain. I was crying for that woman. The feeling of loss so full and complete I felt it would crush me. I wasn't huddled away from you anymore, I was holding onto you, clutching at you. Holding you like if I let go, my world would spin apart.

I look up at you, locking eyes with you, and again I see another face than yours, but this time it wasn't Him. It was Her. The woman. I saw her gently waving hair instead of yours, and I saw her caring smile, and I threw my arms around your neck, because I didn't just see her, I saw you, too. You had eyes just like hers. Not just the color, but the exact same look in them. One of loving concern. And I cried into your shoulder, holding you to me.

You wrapped your arms around me uncertainly, but I didn't care. I just cried and cried.

Eventually I stopped crying. I don't know how long I had cried for, or what time it was, but it must have been just about dawn. I could see the light trickling in through the cracks in the boards. I slowly leaned back. I knew you weren't asleep, and I looked up at you. You carefully cradled my face in your hands, looking at me in such a caring way it almost hurt. The words you said were 'You are beautiful.' But all I heard was **"I love you."**

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**Ending Notes: **So there it is. I hope you liked it Opera Glasses. I know it wasn't what you asked for, but this is what came out. I think its kinda sweet. And I've had this flying around my head for ages, and haven't been able to write anything else, thats why no new chapter for Forever. I hope you liked this. I might make it into a longer fic, but I probably won't. So let me know what you people thought, please? Thanks, love you all!!

Z


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